I am finding poetry again – Constructing the Labyrinth from Which I Plan to Escape!
Again, my visual art should give me the title for the poem! The title shall also be the seed I feed to Google.
These artworks are from the era when I did not name them. This is just number 2 in the series Ribbon of Diffraction.
What do I see? A crown? Crazy, spiky red hair? Orderly, timid violet ripples morphing into distorted waves of red? A burst of … what? (Obviously, I am not using AI assistance in this experiment or on writing this post.)
If I pick a seed, I stick with it. I must not try out different phrases. I will search for the seed phrase in a private Google window, adding filetype:pdf. Why PDFs? I want to make sure that I will not end up on large platforms.
I have been creating search term poetry since 2012, and it got harder and harder to escape the gravitational pull of black holes like Youtube. I demonstrated it here, using this following rule: Pick the first search result, pick a phrase, then navigate to this page. Repeat for that page. However, the platforms do not want you to leave their confinements. You are lucky when you end up on Wikipedia, but it is hard to escape a dictionary site or a stock photo site.
I am now picking different PDF documents just by following the order of search results. I must pick a phrase from each of the documents. I must not go back and forth, but pick a phrase fast, then move on to the next PDF. Don’t rearrange, don’t edit. I give myself freedom to write as few or as many lines as I want.
Whenever I invent a term – like a nickname, elkement for example – I cannot get it out of my head, and I have to use it. So, I go with timid violet ripples morphing into distorted waves of red filetype:pdf, and Google rewards the courage, with slowly loading PDFs from obscure sources. Scholarly theses. Classic novel. Poetry by emerging writers.
I cannot do these sources justice, but I try!
Timid Violet Ripples Morphing into Distorted Waves of Red
contribute to the paradigm I bring to my reading
where boundary wave events are observed
my eyes flicker in and out
At the back of my life’s horizon
the ideal of the revolution remains untarnished
multiplied by icy factored bubbles of a ripple
ready to dare anything and to be astonished at nothing
artists had come here
I am imagining your inconsistency
the doorway is all golden light
a roar ripped the air
Just me, heart open, mind receiving
we do not know what the universe was doing
Magicians did occasionally pop out of secret doors
Where the edges are we aren’t sure
there is something in it you connect with
laugh with us, cry with us
Before the method can be used
I taught myself how to fly.
Yielded to the airy style
Open your eyes and see what you can
Had it all been a hallucination or dream?
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